Haven
by Fairy Pixie Stardust
Summary: *One-Shot Collection* 4: Kis- :She should have seen it coming. But she didn't. That was the reason she was standing there, fixed to the spot as if frozen. Stupid. *Stan/Kyle*
1. Akin to Heaven

**Summary: It's a perfect day and Kyle is sitting on the windowsill as usual, most likely contemplating the meaning of life. Then Stan shows up and almost gets himself killed- and Cartman and Kenny have to show up, too? Why Kyle?**

**Category: Humor/Romance**

**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of its characters. They belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.**

**-o0o-**

**Akin to Heaven**

**-o0o-**

"I love you, dude," says Stan, trapping him in a tight embrace. Kyle wants to let out the standard reply. It's there. So close. It's struggling to get out. But try as it might, it can't. It's trapped, just like he is inside that hug.

"... Yeah," he says finally. Because what can he say?

_I love you_?

Because if he did, everything would be all too real.

Stan pulls away. All too soon. "Thanks for that... you saved my life."

Kyle laughs, shrugging off Stan's sincere thanks. "No problem," he says.

Because they aren't eleven anymore. This is ninth grade, the year of entry into high school. Life has never been normal for Stan and Kyle, but it seems to be worsening lately. Moments like this... they're rare.

They are sitting on the roof. The sharp and crisp air of early spring is relaxing. That is why Kyle spends the majority of his time up here, whether it be for studying, playing mind games, or just staring at the bunny-shaped clouds floating by.

Today is the first time Stan has joined him. Nearly killing himself in the process, too. Luckily, Kyle had chosen that moment to suddenly acquire remarkable upper body strength.

"Thanks," Stan says again. His black hair is slightly ruffled under his perpetual red and blue beanie. His cheeks and nose are rosy, probably due to the cold. His equally rosy lips are--

Kyle snaps himself away. "... You're welcome."

"So." Stan scoots closer to him, and all of a sudden, the world gets a little bit brighter and warmer all around. "Will you help with my homework?" He pushes a math worksheet and pencil in front of him.

"Uh-"

As soon as Stan hears this hesitation, he takes back the piece of paper. "I'm sorry, dude," he says apologetically. "You probably haven't done it, either."

He scratches the back of his head, and it's so cute that Kyle forgets that he really _hasn't _done it yet. "It's okay. I'll help you."

Stan's perfect toothpaste ad-worthy grin is brighter than the stars. "Thanks, Kyle. I don't know what I'd do without you."

_You'd do better than_ I _would_, thinks Kyle. He considers telling Stan in a moment of pure stupidity and absence of reason, but rejects the idea. Like he always does. Like he's done for the last thousand times.

However, this time it's different. Maybe it's the heat of the moment, or the perfect, cool, crisp weather, or the way Stan's electric blue eyes are sparkling... This time it's different. "I need you tell you something," Kyle blurts. Immediately he feels stupid and useless and idiotic.

Stan just looks at him. "I know."

"It probably isn't what you think it is." Kyle sighs, looking down at his feet.

He smiles that perfect smile again, this time in a encouraging sort of way. "Try me," he says.

Kyle doesn't want to say it, that secret he's been harboring for the past year. Those individual joys and sorrows of being around his super best friend, that blossoming ache in his heart.

It's hard.

"C'mon, Kyle."

Kyle only sighs a little, but then makes the mistake of looking into those eyes. Those serene blue eyes...

They're beautiful. It's just like seven minutes ago-- it's at the tip of his tongue, but he can't seem to get it out. Try as he might, he can't. "Uh..."

Stan grins mischievously all of a sudden. "I know what you're going to say," he says.

Kyle thinks that he doesn't. "No-"

-Suddenly, soft lips come crashing onto his, and he closes his eyes tightly.

--It's so uncomfortable, this position. Kyle's left leg is hanging off the windowsill into thin air and his jacket is all twisted up in Stan's fist. Something is pressing against his right thigh and a hand is gripping the back of his neck.

Still, it is something akin to heaven. Or as close it can get on this lowly earth. Slowly, Kyle finds his own right hand trailing up to Stan's neck. His left hand is all jammed up beneath the other's.

Only once several seconds pass does Kyle summon up emough courage to open his eyes. Stan's electric ones are staring right back at him. So close. Kyle thinks it's less than an inch. Or maybe it's less than one-quarter of an inch.

He can't think. Because now, Stan's lips have left Kyle's and he's murmuring something. "You have such beautiful green eyes..."

Kyle can't quite believe this. "W-what?" he sputters. "I... mean, what was _that _for?"

Stan laughs. "That was what you wanted to do, isn't it?"

He is silent, looking down in his lap.

"That was what you wanted to tell me, isn't it?"

Kyle raises his head and stares at him, his eyes wide and mouth open.

"You're so cute," Stan tells him. Then he ruffles Kyle's red hair a little.

Kyle is almost too shocked to talk. "Uh... I... y-yeah..." He gulps, feeling utterly like a girl. Stan pushes him close to himself, enabling him to look over his shoulder into the heart of the city, below them.

Kyle blushes profusely, because now Stan's arms are around his waist, just like in the dream he had a week before.

Come to think of it, the scenario in his dream was exactly like this... Kyle considers this for a moment and juggles it around in his mind, but his attention is drawn to other areas when Stan kisses his cheek.

_This is heaven_, Kyle realizes as Stan sits pressed against him on a windowsill, three stories off the ground, fluffy white clouds floating by, a cool breeze blowing against his face.

--So why do Cartman and Kenny have to show up on the opposite side of the window-?

--The last thing Eric Cartman says before the glass shatters in his face and everything goes black is- "God, you two are such _fags_!"

"Mmmph," says Kenny. "Mmmph- pffh!"

"Whatever, Kenny," Stan responds, swinging his legs over to land on the floor inside, getting a First-Aid kit, and helping Kyle patch up his knuckle wounds (and kissing them in the process).

**-o0o-**

Eric Cartman (still) lies, forgotten, on the shiny linoleum floor of the school.

**-o0o-**

**A/N: Not a very long fic, but I just had to write this one. **

**... It's so fluffy. Fluffy. Stan/Kyle.**

**Passedout!Cartman.**

**Woot. **

**Liked it? Hated it? Tell me if you like fluff.**

**Because fluff is fun to write. **

**Review, please-!**


	2. Phone Call

**Summary: Kyle is desperate to get Stan and Wendy back together, but an impatient Stan blurts out something he hadn't planned to say...**

**Category: Angst/Romance (tiny bit of fluff)**

**-o0o-**

**Phone Call**

**-o0o-**

Stan holds up his fingers, marvelling at the faint hint of a large network of blue blood vessels inside. Ever since he had started taking 7th grade biology last month, he's been noticing stuff like this. But no more on that.

Because the phone rings. Stan gets up from his oh-so-soft bed sighing wistfully, and walks to it. He picks up the receiver, putting it to his right ear. "Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Stan!" It's Kyle.

"Hey..." Stan really doesn't feel like talking. Because Wendy's broken up with him for the seventeenth time since middle school started-- he's really tired. Even if he actually wanted to break up this time, he is still suffering from the throes of rejection. "So."

Kyle's voice loses a bit of its shine. "Uh, I'm just..." It softens, and takes on just a hint of sympathy. "You know... your break-up with Wendy yesterday..."

Stan nods, momentarily forgetting that this was a conversation over the phone. He quickly voices his response. "Yeah..."

"I know you miss her a lot, dude." He pauses. "And I can't stand to see you so sad like this. You didn't even make fun of Mr. Garrison today-!"

"Yeah... and?" Stan cringes at the bitterness in his voice. But Kyle doesn't know _anything_.

"So... wait... it's a surprise." Stan hears something on the other side, though he's not sure what it is. Pretty soon, he hears the telltale ring of a three-way call.

"Who're you calling...?"

Right then, someone picks up. "Hello?" an unmistakable female says.

"Hey, Wendy!" says Kyle.

"Oh, hi, Kyle." Pause. "So... uh, you know, you don't call me a lot. --Actually, you've never called me."

Stan can feel Kyle smiling on his end. "Yeah, I know. But this is for Stan."

"Stan?"

"Yeah." Kyle directs his next line toward him. "Stan, I know you can hear... say something to Wendy?"

Wendy starts to protest, but Stan nevertheless says, "Hi."

"Um, hi."

"So," Kyle says. "Wendy, Stan's got something to tell you." Here, Stan's amusement takes a little break. Actually, his heart almost stops. What Kyle's doing is not a good idea. But he can only listen. "You see, the break-up yesterday... Stan doesn't hate you. He told me for real what he was thinking when he said that, and he said that he definitely didn't mean it." A _lie_, and Kyle knows it.

"Oh," says Wendy. It's like the two have forgotten that he's listening on. "Uh... what _did _he mean?"

_No_, thinks Stan. _Don't say it, Kyle._

"He told me, and he said that he actually lov--" Stan can't hear anymore.

"_Dude_," shouts Stan, cutting Kyle off mid-sentence, "I don't _want_ Wendy!"

"What?"

"I want _you, _you Jew!"

Silence.

Solid silence that you probably couldn't even cut open with Excalibur. "Bye, Wendy," Kyle says softly.

"Bye," says Wendy, her voice sounding frail. Immediately, Stan feels guilty.

"I'm sor-" Click.

"Stan," says Kyle.

"What?" Even to his ears, he sounds snappish and angry.

"You could've dropped the 'Jew' thing."

"..."

A sigh comes from the other end. "Just so you know, I actually want you, too."

Stan pauses in the midst of his silent rant inside his head. "--What?"

"I. Want. You. Too."

"Oh," he says stupidly.

"See you at Stark's Pond at eleven?"

"Yeah. That'd be nice..."

"Yeah." Kyle hangs up.

It would be. It _would _be nice.

The throes of rejection leave him.

Maybe permanently--

He'd have to see at Stark's pond.

**-o0o-**

**A/N: How'd you like it?**

**Review? **


	3. Classroom Escapade: Truth or Dare

**Summary: The two boys are late to class, but instead of getting detention, they get... Truth or Dare? -Craig/Highlighter, Wendy/YouTube-**

**Category: Humor/Romance **

**--o0o--**

**1: Truth or Dare**

**--o0o--**

A round of giggles ricocheted throughout the seventh grade classroom as the two boys huffed into the classroom-- more specifically, Music Appreciation. "S-sorry," puffed Stan, handing Ms. Scrives a pink slip. "We have... a... pass..."

"You are excused," she said in her perpetually nasal voice. Kyle and Stan wiped imaginary sweat off their foreheads as they grinned at the slightly disappointed classroom and sat down. It was this moment that Ms. Scrives chose to put on a bit mischievous and very troublesome smirk. "Now, class," she said, "Time for Truth or Dare!"

"What--?!" groaned the student body of twenty-one, including the two tardy boys.

"That's right, Truth or Dare!"

Craig sat forward and gave the young teacher the finger. "Sorry, Teach," he said, "But I don't do Truth or Dare."

Unconcerned, she commanded him to play the game. Surprisingly, he sat back reluctantly and obeyed. _Hmm, _thought the class. _Craig obviously wants to play._

Ms. Scrives' demeanor changed suddenly. "Now, class," she chirped, "Who wants to be first?"

Very unsurprisingly, Butters' hand shot into the air. "Ooh, ooh, Ms. Scrives, pick me, pick _me_!" His blue eyes filled with anticipation.

"Now, now, Butters, don't get too excited." Changing direction, she yelled, "Wendy Testaburger--" groans from the students who secretly wanted to play- "-- Truth or dare?"

Immediately, Wendy laughed a little. "Dare, of course!"

"Who would like to give Wendy a little dare?"

The class exploded with shouting and wayward comments. "Kiss me!" "Run around the school ten times!" "Kiss her!

"Skip around this room ten times while singing 'Ponies will rule the earth... someday...'" As Pip finished off his suggestion in a dreamy tone, both amused and angry glares directed themselves at him. "What? I was just saying..."

"I'll do it!" said Wendy.

And to no one's surprise, someone videotaped it, put it on YouTube, and when the video got 113,000,000 views, Wendy became a star.

A _star_.

"Next!" called out Ms. Scrives.

Red glanced at Craig. It seemed to take all of his mental, physical, and Craig-y strength not to jump out of his seat and beg Ms. Scrives to let him be next. In fact, he was trembling in his seat and-- would you look at that!-- sweating profusely! "Craig'll do it," she said.

"What?" he laughed nervously. "N-no, I won't."

"Yes, you will, and you _will _do a dare," Ms. Scrives told him.

The room erupted with shouts and screams and really, _what_? What kind of school has two volcanic eruptions a day?

Oh yeah, a school in South Park.

Right.

"Kiss him!" "Kill this ant!" "Eat this 1000-day old chocolate!" "No, no, go to that really bad Chinese restaurant north of town!" "Too tame!" "Fine, eat this highlighter!" A bright pink highlighter was suddenly hurling itself at Craig.

The highlighter ended up hitting him at full force, square in the forehead. "Quit it!" he shouted angrily, so loud that the wild group quieted down considerably. _Chirp... chirp..._

And then he downed the highlighter. Right then and there. As the dash of pink disappeared down Craig Tucker's throat, a boy cried, "Hey, that thing cost fifteen cents!", but he was quieted immediately.

"Whoa," breathed Butters.

"Faggot," said Cartman rather loudly. No one noticed.

"Dude!" shouted Stan, who had been very silent until this moment. "That was awesome!"

"Seriously!" responded Kyle cheerfully.

A sly glint in Ms. Scrives' eye should have alerted the boys to trouble, but sadly, it didn't. "Stan," she said, "Truth or dare?"

Kyle genuinely felt sorry for his friend. He could even see a drop of sweat making its way ever so slowly down the boy's cheek. Stan gulped. "Um... dare," he said quickly, immediately mentally kicking himself for not choosing truth.

Too late now.

To everyone's surprise, no one had a suggestion this time. But thankfully, after a moment's silence, a small and quiet girl in the back said, "Um... I-I have a suggestion..."

"What?" said Stan, hoping that it wouldn't be _too _stupid.

The girl giggled and hugged her binder close to her chest. "Why don't you kiss... him...?" she said, eyeing the red-haired boy sitting next to the one with the hot potato.

_Oh no, _thought the entire class, _not another closet slash fan. _(Do not be disappointed, dear reader, but that is for another classroom escapade...)

"Uh, what?" answered Stan, ever-so-brightly.

"What she said was," Ms. Scrived attempted to help, "Kiss... you know... _him._" She waved the flapping pages of her book vaguely in their direction.

"What?" said Kyle, having become just as dumb as his friend. You know what they say about a boy and his dog... _right_...?

"Goddamnit," yelled Wendy, "Just kiss already."

"No!" whined Stan. "You guys were just _crawling _with suggestions right now! Why! I'd rather chew and swallow one hundred worms than kiss _Kyle_!"

"What!" Kyle yelled, enraged. "Are you calling me a _bad kisser_!?"

While they fumed at each other, the whole room was silent. "Oh, no," said Stan, suddenly becoming apologetic, "I didn't mean that..."

"What _did _you mean!?"

"I mean..." The rest of Stan's statement was smothered as he swept the red-haired boy off his feet, wrapped his arms around his body, and kissed him grandly. It wasn't bad; it was rather nice. "You're... a good kisser," Stan told his friend when they broke apart. But Kyle seemed to be speechless and worse yet, the corner of his eye was twitching as if he were very, very mad.

"Stan," he whispered angrily, "I thought we promised we wouldn't do that at _school_!"

"I know, but... it's Truth or Dare..."

Suddenly, they were very much aware of twenty-one pairs of eyes staring at them, including Ms. Scrives' own. They stood there, fearing the worst.

And then the unthinkable happened--- Ms. Scrives was... squealing? "Oh em gee," she said breathlessly, "That was the cutest thing I've ever seen! Hold on, I gotta text my friends!" As their teacher shuffled off to the hallway and the door closed, Stan and Kyle were very much enveloped in cheers.

"Didja use tongue?" Kenny asked.

"Faggots," Cartman told them, "I knew it. I just _knew _it."

"That was hot," Bebe said.

_Ring---- ring-----! _

Even when all the others were leaving the classroom, the Super Best Friends stood there, shell-shocked. "They're _all _closet slash fans," Kyle told Stan disbelievingly.

"Got that right."

**--o0o--**

**A/N: Dumb little one-shot loosely based on something that happened in my band class! Not quite Music Appreciation, but close.**

**I just thought about what it'd be like if it were Stan and Kyle, and-- voila!**

**This happened.**


	4. Kis

**Summary: She should have seen it coming. But she didn't. That was the reason she was standing there, fixed to the spot as if frozen. Stupid.**

**Category: Angst/ justalittle!Romance**

**-o0o-**

She should have seen it coming.

But the truth was that she was standing there, still in her uncomfortable dress, still with those stupid things fixed to her hair. She should have seen it coming.

The way they had sat together, legs interlocked, just a little too close. The way they had looked at each other, just a little too lovingly. The way they had spoken to each other, just a little too intimately.

She should have seen it coming.

But she didn't. That was the reason she was standing there, fixed to the spot as if frozen. Stupid.

So stupid.

After the school play, the way they walked off together.

And she'd been stupid enough to follow them.

Involuntary tears now came welling up to her eyes. Because there was no doubt, no doubt at all, that they even looked _good _together. His red hair, stuffed under than perpetual hat, her own boyfriend's shaggy black, exposed.

There was a lone blue ski cap on the floor.

Silence,

silence,

silence

Kissing.

Kis-

"Wendy!"

She ran.

**-o0o-**

**A/N: Short little drabble-ish piece.**


End file.
